


Fire-Haired Girl

by haledamage



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, Original Character-centric, POE Fic Swap 2017, Watcher Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haledamage/pseuds/haledamage
Summary: A few moments in Kai's life that helped shape who she is. For PoE Fic Swap 2017





	Fire-Haired Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queen_scribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/gifts).



> Based on a prompt from queen_scribbles for the Pillars of Eternity Fic Swap 2017. The prompt was “some of Kai's backstory.” I hope I did it justice! 
> 
> Unbetaed. Many commas died to bring you this fanfic. Please be gentle, this is my first fic in over a decade.

Akaia is 12 when she starts showing aptitude for magic. She is too tall for her skin, knobby knees and bony elbows while the rest of her catches up. She has green eyes that want to see everything and a tangle of curls tumbling untended around her like a halo of fire. She has snuck into the secret part of Father's library, the part with books he says aren't appropriate for children. Her sister, Arabella, is five years her elder and wants a book on Old Vailian myths.

"Kiki," she said, "you're way better at sneaking than I am. Get this for me and I swear I'll return the favor."

So Akaia is crawling, quiet as a temple mouse, through the library as Arabella keeps watch in the hall. A different book catches her eye. It's title is in an old form of Aedyran. She can't read all of it, but she does know one word: magic. She grabs it and Bella's book and leaves the room. She can hardly contain excitement through dinner, wanting to return to her room and read her book. She excuses herself as soon as good manners will allow, and as soon as she's out of Mother's sight she is running like wolves are at her heels.

The book is mostly unreadable, Old Aedyran is too different from the dialect spoken today. She skims the pages for words she knows and, eventually, she starts to understand. Magic theory, page after page on the how and why and what of wizardry. She reads it a second time aloud, carefully shaping the words as she thinks they're supposed to sound. A few words sound familiar and she mentally fills their place with more recent spellings. The picture is coming together. In the last chapter, it goes wrong. She speaks the words aloud and everything goes bright and hot. She screams and loses her concentration and the fire is gone as quick as it started, but too late. She hears footsteps in the hall. She's been caught.

She checks herself over quickly. She isn't hurt, not even her hands which were so close to the heat of the flames. The book is okay, too. Her sheets are a little singed, but not bad; she can still sleep on them.

Mother is through the door first. She falls back against the wall in horror, hand over her mouth. "Mama, I'm okay!" but Akaia may as well be talking to the wall for all the acknowledgment that gets. Father is hot on her heels, but as soon as he takes in the scene he relaxes. His face settles into a mask of amusement and curiosity and Akaia knows she's in trouble; she's seen Bella and Gaius fall for this enough times.

"What did you take?" his voice is endlessly patient. She hands him the book and he flips through it casually. "You read this?" A nod. "Did you cast a spell from this, Kiki?"

"Just a fireball. And I didn't mean to! Reading the words out loud made it easier to understand them." She sounds pouty and she hates it.

Father sets the book aside and puts his hands on his middle daughter's bony shoulders. "Do you want to learn magic?"

Mother finally finds her voice. "Akaia Cirdani, how could you! Your beautiful hair!" She steps forward and tugs on a curl, stretching it straight. The end is blackened and still smoking. Akaia giggles. Mother scowls.

The next day is spent stuck in a chair as Mother and her lady-in-waiting, Miss Octavia, carefully trim all the burnt bits from her hair. They won't let her have a book.

"Such a shame," sighs Miss Octavia, again, "she had such beautiful hair."

"Garreth wants to send her to the academy," Mother whispers, scandalized.

"She's such a pretty girl. It's a shame she'll be wasted on all those books."

Akaia is 12, and just cast a 3rd level spell, but all anyone cares about is how she looks.

\-------

Akaia is 26 and one of the best students at the academy. She speaks four languages and reads six, and she wants to read every book in the library before she graduates. There are no restricted sections here. She has finally grown into her skeleton. Her green eyes are sharp and see everything, and her copper curls are carefully contained in an endless braid. Father wants her to be an arcane knight and serve her family. She wants to be a scholar, a historian, a linguist. Battle-magic holds no interest for her.

"Come on, Red," says Ailine, her roommate, as she brushes her soft, corn-silk hair before bed, "there's no way a girl who looks like you is ever going to be allowed to hide away in some library all her life."

_That's all I want_ , Akaia wants to scream, but she knows it's no use. Just because she's allowed to use her mind doesn't mean she's allowed an opinion.

Akaia is 26, and everyone calls her Red. She wonders if she dyed her hair, if someone would actually bother to learn her name.

\-------

Akaia is 50 and serves the Cirdani family, her family, as arcane knight. It's better than she thought it would be, and affords her a lot of personal freedom. It also earns her a paycheck. What she doesn't squirrel away for an emergency is spent on books. Her room looks like a library and she's very proud of it.

It is dinner time, and Mother has invited a neighboring lord and his son. The son sits too close to her. She tries to make conversation, leaning away so far that her head is on Arabella's shoulder. He doesn't even pretend to listen or understand her studies on Rauatai technology or the Engwithan culture. He reaches for her again and she's run out of room to escape. He wraps an escaped curl around his finger, leans too close, whispers "It's a shame you don't wear it down. You have such beautiful hair."

Akaia snaps. She grabs her steak knife, sawing through her braid with a swift, angry motion. "It's all yours," she tells him as she drops the unraveling braid on his dessert.

Akaia is 50, and her green eyes see the trails that will lead her safely through the Cythwood and away from home. She covers her hair with the deep hood of her travel cloak. She offers her skill in battle-magic and languages to the first caravan she meets. She tells them to call her Kai, and she doesn't look back.

\-------

Kai is 57 and she's a long way from home. Her head is full of voices that aren't hers. Her green eyes are framed by sleeplessness like a fresh bruise and see the spectres of those long-dead.

She meets a man with hair like black silk and eyes like the winter sky. His careful smile is full of hope and his head is full of someone else's voice, though she won't learn that for some time yet. He reaches for her and she bites her lip against the urge to flinch. He pulls her hood forward and helps her pin it in place. "It never seems to stop raining here," he says, smile kind but quick, "we can't have you getting sick." He tucks away a wayward curl, fingers lingering on her skin just a touch longer than necessary, and Kai feels like she can breath for the first time.

She meets a man with eyes like the summer sky. His hair and smile are sunshine and he smells like pipe smoke and wasted potential. "Huh," he says one night as she removes her cloak and bends to tend the campfire, "I bet all that hair is a real pain to take care of."

She laughs as an old tension eases from her shoulders. "You should have seen it before." He chuckles and shrugs and never mentions it again.

She meets a man as tall as a mountain. He has a laugh like thunder and a smile as big as her newly-acquired keep. He wants nothing more than to listen to her theories on Engwithan culture and to test her fluency in any number of languages.

She meets a woman with feathers in her hair and a fire in her belly. She displays both proudly, an armor and a challenge. Kai starts to feel that the least she can do is answer that challenge.

She meets a man one eye and one ear and a chip on his shoulder. He has a mane just like hers, and his pride is so fierce that she feels a shadow of it kindle in her own heart.

Kai is 57, and her hair dances in the breeze like a halo of fire. Her sleepless green eyes see everything. She is a battle-wizard and a linguist and a Watcher. Kith recognize her by her curls, but they remember her for the fire in her eyes and the kindness in her smile and the hope she sows in her wake.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I got this written so quickly, I'm planning to hit a few more of the prompts I was given! 
> 
> For those curious, Kai is a wood elf; wiki says elves live 200-300 years, so 57 sounds old but she's actually quite young (wiki also says Aloth is 62, to give some perspective)


End file.
